This story is intended for readers 18 and older. Everyone in this story is 18 or older. This story depicts several risky or dangerous acts. Readers should remember to always play safe and legal.
For those with emotional triggers, this story or following chapters may include the following: physical abuse, confinement, fat shaming, verbal harassment, humiliation, degradation, breath play, cruelty, guilt, punishment, extreme attachment, and more. Readers should be aware and cautious of any mental or emotional issues they might have prior to reading.
******** Want A Slave? Chapter 1
Note: This chapter lays the foundation for the rest, so it does not contain as much action, just some humiliation, scene setting and other tasks.
To me, submitting has always felt natural. And although I didn't start looking to serve until this year when I turned 25, I have known about and embraced my submissive attitude all my life. I can vividly recall offering to carry around books for other guys during middle school or always cleaning up after my friend's party, even if it was held at his house. Simply put, I find pleasure in serving and submitting to another guy.
For the past few months I've been using a gay mobile application on my phone as one of the many ways to find a man to serve. I keep things simple with a screen name of "Want a slave?" and a few words about how I am seeking a guy to order me around.
Of course, living in a college town, I've received more messages from fakes and flakes than I can count. A lot of guys want to dominate someone in the bedroom, but very few are interested in an actual slave to control.
So when I received a new message from a guy with the screenname of Rob, I didn't rush to respond. After all, he'd only said "Hi slave" and didn't have a photo on his profile. His stats were close to mine, with him being 24, 6 foot and 180 pounds to my 25 5'9 and 195. But a ton of the college guys love to jerk off while chatting about using me and then disappear or block my profile, so I didn't give him much thought.
What I didn't expect from Rob was a sign of seriousness. Shortly after his intro message, he not only sent a headless photo of him on a beach, but also one of him in leather gear holding a metal chain that led to something or someone outside the photo's frame.
"I need a new slave to serve me," he wrote. "Send me a face and shirtless pic"
My mind started racing at seeing the photo of him wearing the leather harness, pants and boots. Of course, his muscled abs and good looking, tan chest also caught my eye. But really my eye was drawn to the metal chain, and I wondered what it went to. I tried to imagine myself at the end of it, sitting on the floor connected to this god of a man by metal. I quickly sent him the photos he asked for and stared at the screen waiting for a reply.
It took about 10 minutes, but he finally responded back, "Not bad. A little fat for me, but we can fix that. Here's what's going to happen. If you pass a test visit and agree, you'll become mine. I travel a lot for work, so you will keep my place clean and ready while I am gone. When I'm here you will spend your days and nights serving me until I leave again. You will be used as a slave, urinal, pup, bitch, punching bag, footstool, butler and anything else I want you to be. You up for a test visit tonight, boy?"
I had never typed the word yes as I responded. My mind was reeling with the thoughts of finally having found someone local to serve. The fact that he had a great body and was around my age was even better. And truth be told, the idea of submitting to a younger guy made me extremely turned on.
"You mean yes, Sir" he replied. "You will always treat me with respect, both in text and in person or we're done and I'll find another fag to serve me. I want you at my place at 8."
I couldn't believe I'd already messed up. I should have known to be more respectful, although I think I left off the Sir as a kind of subconscious test to see if he was serious or just chatting up a fantasy. If that was the case, he certainly passed my "test."
"Yes, Sir. Sorry for being disrespectful, Sir," I wrote. "Where is your place? And can I get a face pic before we meet, Sir? Also, when I first meet with a guy I like to have a safeword since we don't know each other well, is that ok?"
After that message, I didn't hear from him, so I figured he'd flaked out or gotten busy. I set my phone down and went back about my business, eyeing the clock to see there was only about an hour and a half before it was 8. About 7:15 my phone vibrated with a message from him.
"My apartment is #528 at The Grotto Apartments," he wrote. I sat there waiting to see if he would send a face picture or mention anything about a safeword, but he didn't. I still planned to be at his place at 8, so I went and hopped in the shower, making sure to clean myself out in an effort to try and preemptively please Sir. As I was putting on my shoes, I got another message from Sir.
"When you arrive at my apartment, you are to kneel on the doormat. Then knock three times and wait for me to open the door. When I open it, you are not to look up, you will never have the right to look me in the eyes. You will kiss each of my feet until I tell you to stop. Then you will crawl inside, strip off in the hallway and fold your clothes neatly. Then you'll kneel and wait until I have a use for you. Understood, bitch?"
I replied telling him that I understood and would obey. I then asked him again about a safe word and face pic. I didn't want to be meeting some crazy old man who would kidnap me once I was inside. I was answered with silence.
Just as I was grabbing my keys to leave, my phone went off again.
"The safeword will be newspaper," he said. And he'd sent a photo. My heart stopped, and I sucked in my breath. I knew this man. I'd gone to college and been friends with him not four years ago.
"Hello, Mike," his next message said. "See you soon."
I was in utter disbelief. I couldn't believe that one of my college friends was the man I'd agreed to meet and serve as his slave. Rob and I first met my junior year at the college's newspaper, which explained his choice of safeword. He had been the finance and contract guy, and I'd been the designer for the paper. He had always been one of those unattainable fraternity guys that I just dreamed would end up gay. But he always had a steady girlfriend, so I never really thought about him sexually, just admired his good looks from afar.
I was so confused now. Was Rob gay? Certainly he recognized me when I sent him those two photos, so why didn't he say something? Wouldn't it be weird for him to be dominating a friend he used to work with in college? I had so many questions, but at the same time my racing heart and stiff dick proved I was extremely excited about the prospect of submitting to Rob. There had been many loads shot during the years fantasizing about this exact scenario.
Still numb from the revelation, I got in my car and headed to the apartment complex. As I parked I tried to look up and see Rob, but I couldn't tell which windows or balcony went to #528. As I climbed the outdoor stairs, my heart was pounding in my head, and I was starting to shake from nerves. I found Rob's apartment and saw his welcome home doormat outside. I slowly knelt on it, struggling to keep my balance because of my nervous shaking. I knocked on the door three times and held my breath.
I strained to listen for any sounds inside the apartment, but all I heard was the television going. I couldn't even tell what program was on through the thick wooden door. As the seconds turned into minutes, I begin to panic that this had all been a cruel joke, and I'd been sent to an empty apartment. Then I began to wonder what I'd say if someone walked by right now and saw a 25 year old man kneeling in front of a closed door.
After what felt like forever, I heard movement from inside the apartment. It was another minute or so before the movement grew louder and sounded like it was heading toward me. As I heard the door unlock, I began to intently stare down at the ground. I didn't want to upset Rob by looking him in the eyes, plus I wanted to get the foot kissing out of the way as soon as possible to reduce any risk of being seen kneeling by passersby.
Once the door was completely open, I was staring at a pair of brown Sperry top-siders. I didn't even hesitate when I bent over and started planting my lips on the shoes, leaving little spit residue every time I hit a new spot.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Rob growled. "I told you to kiss my feet, not my fucking shoes. You're ruining them with your spit!"
I recoiled back at his anger. I had just assumed he wanted me to start once he opened the door. I never even stopped to think about how his order had been to kiss his feet. Without thinking, I looked up at Rob to apologize and ask what he wanted me to do. As soon as my eyes met his, I saw his right hand come out and hit my cheekbone. The quick punch made me topple over, and I struggled to regain my kneeling position while rubbing my face with my hand.
"I told you no eye contact fag, now take off the fucking shoes and start kissing before I change my mind and find another pathetic bitch to take your place," he said.
"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir," I said as I reached out and pulled off his right shoe, then the left. Once his feet were bare, I bent over again and repeated the same kissing pattern, this time my lips touching the salty flesh of his feet.
I continued to kiss each foot one at a time and then moving to the other. After about a minute of going through the motion, I began to hear people climbing the stairs. I started to panic a bit and wondered if Rob was really going to make me kneel here and continue groveling at his feet while strangers walk by. Just as I really started to worry, Rob reached down, grabbed his shoes and started to walk away.
"Get inside and strip," he said as he left the entryway. I quickly scrambled on my knees inside, closing the door to the apartment behind me just as I heard and saw three college-aged girls reaching the floor's landing.
Directly in across from the apartment door was a closet. I stopped my crawling there and started to strip. I hadn't worn much, only shoes, a t-shirt and pair of gym shorts, so it didn't take long before I was nude on the hardwood floors. I took my time folding my shirt and shorts and placing them on top of my shoes. Then, as ordered, I knelt and waited. And waited.
It didn't take long for me to realize how cold it was in the apartment. In very little time, my boner had shrunk and shriveled to nothing. I also had goosebumps all over me, and I continued to shake, but probably more from nerves than the cold. Inside the apartment I could hear the television going with some sports news program. I couldn't hear Rob moving at all, so I wasn't sure what he was doing.
As I knelt, I began to look around the apartment to get a better feel for it. Next to the closet was a small pass through that led further into the apartment.
On the other side of that walkway and directly in front of me as I knelt next to the front closet was a kitchen. On the left side of the kitchen was a sink full of dirty dishes, a dishwasher and a short counter with random trash and kitchen utensils on it. On the right side of the kitchen was the oven, microwave and fridge. There also looked to be a closet at the end of the kitchen.
Behind the sink was a eat-in bar that led into an open area that I assumed was the living room. I could see the faint glow of a television throughout the space. On the far wall of the living room there was a door that was closed. On the left in the living room, behind the front closet was a hallway that I assumed led to a bedroom and bathroom.
I also saw some glass doors in the living room that led out to one of the balconies I saw on my way in. Thankfully, the blinds were down so no one would see me if I was ordered into the living room. The apartment seemed sparsely decorated, probably because Rob is out of town like he said.
As I continued to glance about, I became very aware of how much pain my knees were in. I had never done any extended kneeling, let alone kneeling nude on hardwood. I also realized that my nerves were gone and I had calmed down. Just as I made this revelation, I heard a door close from the area of the hallway. I could hear the sounds of Rob's feet on the floor as he headed out this way. My nerves instantly came back, and my heart began to pound once again. I carefully aimed my eyes at the ground to avoid any more punches for eye contact, and then I stretched up tall and pushed my chest out in an effort to present myself properly to Rob.
"Hey fag, hope you don't mind that I left you alone, had to go take a nice long bath to relax me before we get started," Rob said as he turned the corner and headed toward me. I noticed he looked wet, and I saw the edge of a towel hitting around his shins. As he walked, wet footprints were being left behind on the floor.
"Good to see you could follow my second instructions," he said as he stopped in front of me. "Now it's time for you to get to work, fag. You're gonna start by licking any water left on my body. But first I want you to crawl along the hallway and clean up the drips I left behind. When you're done with that, meet me at the couch."
Rob turned away and headed into the living room, once again leaving me on my own. I stared at the small puddle and footprints he'd left in front of me, and briefly considered asking for a towel to use. But with the ache in my cheek still, I figured I would do anything to avoid Rob's wrath.
I resigned myself to getting it up the best way I could without tools, licking. As I bent down and started to lap up the bathwater that had fallen off Rob's body, I felt a small wave of shame wash over me. Normal guys spend their nights hanging with friends or getting laid, while I was here licking up dirty bath water off the floor.
It's hard to describe the taste of a floor, but as a entered the hallway where the wood flooring became laminant, I could definitely tell the difference. For the record, wood floors taste better should you ever find yourself licking up a man's bathwater. I crawled into the small bathroom, where the floor was covered with water, and I slowly lapped it up off the tile (the worst tasting flooring). Just as I finished my final pass, Rob shouted at me from the living room.
"You better get the fuck out here in the next 30 seconds or I'll kick you out dressed as you are," he said, causing me to double time it as I crawled toward the living room. Rob hadn't explicitly told me to crawl to the couch, but I didn't want to push my luck, besides, crawling helped keep me from wanting to look up and risk eye contact.
I stopped at his feet and waited for more instructions. I heard the channel changing behind me as Rob said, "Start the licking at my feet and work your way up. When you hit the knee, move to the chest and abs. There's no way you're getting near my cock tonight."
Even though I hadn't come to Rob's with any expectations of sex, I was a little deflated with the knowledge that I wouldn't get to see his dick tonight. There had been many jerk off sessions in college that had included Rob and his cock, but I would have to wait.
As I started licking his right foot, Rob took the left one and put it on my back. He also spread the toes of his right foot, which I took to mean he wanted every crevice licked dry. After a few minutes on the right, he switched positions, and I got to work on the left foot. From there, I worked my way up his shins, alternating left and right. I struggled a bit whenever a stray leg hair got in my mouth, but I tried not to make a scene and continued on. Once I reached the knees, I could see that he had draped the towel over his lap, covering his thighs and groin area.
After I finished licking his knees, something I had never considered having to do before today, I moved to my left and began to crawl up on the sofa to get to his chest and abs. As I lifted my leg to get on the couch I felt the familiar feeling of a fist hitting my cheek.
"What do you think you're doing?" Rob asked angrily. "Slaves don't get to sit on furniture without permission. You have to earn that right."
As I composed myself after my second blow to the face, I looked down in shame and asked Rob if I could get on the couch to reach his chest. He told me that his fags never get to use furniture, and that I'm lucky all he did was punch me for trying to get on the sofa. Resigning myself to the fact that I couldn't get up higher to reach Rob's chest, I sat up further on my knees so I could better reach his upper body. That too was an apparent mistake as Rob pushed me back violently telling me I was getting in the way of him watching tv.
"Sir," I said as I settled back into a low kneeling position. "I can't reach your chest or abs from down here to dry them off. Please allow me to get on the furniture so I can obey your order."
Rob sighed. "How many times will I have to tell you, no slaves on the furniture. Now if you had taken your time to think it through like a good little faggot, you would've asked me to change positions so you could finish your task. But since you didn't do that, I'm not going to let you lick the rest of my body. Instead you're going to crawl into the kitchen and get to work cleaning while I get dressed and ready to go."
I replied with a quick "Yes, Sir," but started to wonder where he was going since I hadn't been there more than a hour or so. I didn't want my time serving Rob to be over yet, and I was worried that my fuck up with the couch had messed things up and he'd changed his mind about using me.
As I reached the kitchen, I began to realize I would need to stand to clean like he had ordered me to. Since he was still on the sofa, I risked it and asked for permission to stand up.
"Wait there, fag," he said as he headed down the hallway. A minute later Rob came back in carrying something in his right hand. I saw the glint of metal and realized it was the same chain that he'd held in the photo I saw earlier. At the thought of being collared and chained, my dick began to rise rapidly.
Rob came over to me and ordered me to stand up, spread my legs and put my hands on my head. I did this while keeping my eyes downcast and away from his. I saw his hands move quickly, taking the end of the chain and wrapping it around my balls. Rob looped the chain around six times and then used a bike lock from his other hand to lock it in place.
"Don't move," he said as he headed toward the oven and started looping the chain around its handle and locking it in place. As he dropped the chain from his hand, I felt the weight of it and the locks pull my balls down a little, but it wasn't too uncomfortable.
"There, that'll help keep you from getting into trouble. I want the dishes done, counters and floors cleaned and stovetop wiped down," Rob said. "Oh, and don't bother looking for supplies, just use your tongue on the counters, floors and stove. I'll be nice and let you use the dishwasher for the plates and stuff."
"Now get to work," he said giving my butt a swat as he walked past me into the hallway.
I immediately headed to the sink and opened the dishwasher next to it. I let out a quiet groan as I realized the dishwasher was full of clean ones that I'd have to put away. I opened a few cabinets to find where things were kept and went to work. In short order I'd emptied the dishwasher, loaded the dirty ones and rinsed down the sink.
I decided to tackle the counters next since they didn't look too bad. I started by picking up the pieces of trash or food waste and throwing them away. Then I started putting away the random kitchen utensils and items that were left out. Once the areas were mostly clear, I paused and hesitated. Was I really going to sit here and lick this clean just because a guy told me to?
I'd already licked the floor of the apartment clean, so I didn't waver too long before bending over next to the sink and licking. I worked my way toward the closet at the end of the kitchen as I slowly gathered dirt, dust, grime and crumbs in my mouth from the counter. They hadn't looked all that dirty, but when you're down at tongue level and tasting every particle, you realize just how dirty things get.
While cleaning I thought about how some other guys around town had used me as a "slave" to clean their apartments or houses one time, but Rob had taken it to a whole new level. Being chained by my balls while degrading myself and licking counters clean had definitely hit a nerve in my submissive soul. And it showed since my cock was still hard and dripping precum all over the floor, which, of course, I'd have to lick up soon.
As I neared the end of the first counter I became very aware of the fact that my balls were being pulled more and more. I looked over my shoulder to see the chain was nearly taut, and I still had about a foot of counter space to lick. I realized then that Rob had known exactly what he was doing looping around my balls so many time. He had designed this activity to include some pain and torture. Using my hands and feet for leverage, I was able to stretch and reach the entire counter, but not without feeling some sharp pain from the chain pulling on me. I was nearly in tears by the time I hit the back corner of the counter. I'd never experienced any ball torture, and the feeling of nearly having them ripped off by an oven was overwhelming to say the least.
After a short break to let my balls relax, I went to the opposite counter to get to work. I started next to the oven and continued licking. The second counter was longer than the other since there was no built in pantry cabinet; luckily though, the chain around my balls wasn't pulled as tightly since the oven was on the same side. Still, when I got about a foot from the end, I felt the same hard tugging from my metal tormentor. Now knowing just how much it would hurt, it took some more mental effort to will myself forward. Reaching that back corner did cause tears this time, but I kept straining against the chain for as long as it took to lick up the unknown residue that was there.
I went back to the stove and looked it over. It looked like there was some sort of sauce around one of the burners and then some dried out pasta pieces scattered about. I bent down again and got to work with my tongue. Whatever sauce it was tasted nasty, and I really didn't like the feeling of the metal stove on my tongue. As I was working on a piece of stuck pasta with my tongue, I felt two hands firmly grab my ass, causing me to jump.
"Calm down, boy," Rob said as he continued to grope my ass. "I just wanted to check out my merchandise a bit more. Don't stop with your chores, pretend I'm not even here."
It was hard to focus on licking clean a stove top when there's a gorgeous man feeling you up. Rob started with just grabbing my ass and playing with it. He used one finger to tease and tickle my hole, causing it to twitch, but then he pulled it away and reached around me. With one finger on either side of my dick, he slowly stroked my hardon for a few seconds as I nearly gasped in pleasure. Then out of nowhere, he stopped and smashed my chained balls with his knuckles, causing my knees to buckle and my body to lean back into his.
"I told you not to stop, bitch. I don't care what's happening to you or how much pain you're ever in, you will always continue to obey my orders," he said as he moved his hands up and started to tweak my nipples. "Yeah, I'm gonna love playing with these fat breasts of yours. Ain't often that I find a fag whose nipples feel so natural and good in my hands."
I wasn't really sure if I was supposed to say anything during all this, so I just continued licking the stove as this man groped me like a piece of livestock. Rob had moved closer to me, forcing my ass against his dick, which was now covered with clothes. I could tell he was hard as he began to grind into me a bit while still pulling and pinching my nipples.
Without warning he pulled away and took a few steps back from me. I wanted to turn around and see what his facial expression was to see if I had done something to upset him, but I fought that urge.
"Why are their trails of dick slime all over my kitchen floor, faggot? Didn't you finish your other chores before starting the stove?" he asked.
"No, Sir, I didn't get to the floor yet, but I will," I said with a slight tremble in my voice. As soon as my answer was out, Rob grabbed a chunk of my hair and violently pulled my head back.
"You better fucking learn how to clean faster, fag. The next time I tell you to clean the kitchen I want everything finished within 20 minutes. Now get to work on the fucking floor. I'm going out for a while," he said shoving me against the stove and heading toward the door.
"Oh, let me help you with the floor," he said turning back to me. I heard the sound of a zipper followed by the sound of piss hitting the floor. I felt splashes of the liquid on my legs as the golden urine spread throughout the kitchen floor.
"Now make sure it's spotless in here by the time I get back or you will regret ever coming here."
And with that the door slammed. Still nude, covered in piss and sweat and chained by the balls, I eagerly dropped to the floor in an attempt to taste the urine of a god while it was still warm.
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my tale. As this is my first time writing this all down, any feedback is always welcome at alwaysserving@mail.com.
Many more things are ahead, so for those who wanted to read more sex, bondage, humiliation or general BDSM action, don't worry.